


Muse

by SolosOrca



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M, coffee shop AU, written for the tenipuri fandom exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 12:47:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5091305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolosOrca/pseuds/SolosOrca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tezuka has a muse. A muse who makes a very good cup of tea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Muse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kaiyuubi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaiyuubi/gifts).



The Antique Cafe was Tezuka’s favourite place. It was just a short walk from his apartment and had just the atmosphere he needed whenever he had writer’s block. The smell of coffee, gentle bubble of conversation and low, warm lighting opening his tightly shut mind and allowing the thoughts to flow freely. That was what he told himself, at least.

The first time he’d visited the shop, he’d been walking around, trying to find inspiration when he’d stumbled across it and decided that he’d quite like a cup of tea.

And inside the shop he had met the man who became his muse.

“What can I get you?” He’d asked in a bored tone, brushing his messy black fringe out of his hazel, almost gold, eyes.

Tezuka was sure his heart had skipped a beat when those eyes looked directly into his.

“A cup of tea,” He’d replied, trying to ignore how fast his heart was beating. He must have been walking harder than he had thought

The barista had smirked, “I’m trained to make over 30 different types of coffee and you order tea?”

“I like tea,” Tezuka had replied simply. It wasn’t as if he hated coffee, but he much preferred tea.

The barista’s smirk had just widened. “Sit down. I’ll bring it over.”

And since then all Tezuka had been able to think about was almost-gold eyes and silky black hair. Which, amazingly, had only helped his writing. It was weird, he’d have thought it would only be a distraction, but he’d been writing more recently than ever and he felt the quality had dramatically improved.

The only difference was his tendency to add in mysterious black haired characters with striking eyes and bratty attitudes.

He was starting to feel rather pathetic about it all, especially since he didn’t even know his muse’s name… or anything about him other than the few vague facts he’d managed to pick up from the conversations he’d overheard around the coffee machine (which had amounted to that he was a university student and liked tennis).

Sometimes he wondered if his muse thought of him the same way, or if he was just another regular customer to him. He wondered if he knew that he was a semi-famous author and if he’d read any of his books.

He reached out and picked up his cup, realising instantly from it’s light weight that it was empty.

Well, his inspiration certainly wasn’t flowing at the moment, he might as well go for a walk and, maybe, buy a cup of tea.

He shut down his laptop and packed his wallet, phone and notebook into his bag, After a moment’s hesitation, he also packed his book - just in case inspiration didn’t strike.

Outside, it was warm and sunny and immediately Tezuka felt so much better being out of his apartment; he was an outdoors person and being cramped up in a room all day didn’t suit him. Maybe he would get out of the city this weekend and go walking, it could be a nice treat for getting this chapter the book finished.

His feet trod the familiar path around the park and back towards the cafe. The gentle tinkle of a bell welcomed him into the shop and he took a breath of the coffee scented air - it had become an almost homely smell.

He immediately looked over to the counter and his heart skipped his familiar beat when he saw his muse standing there, looking bored. The sound of the bell brought Tezuka to his attention and his face broke into the usual half-smile half-smirk that he always welcomed Tezuka with.

“Would you like one of my 97 types of coffee? he asked as Tezuka approached the counter. The number of coffee types always increased according to the man’s whims. “Or will you be sticking to tea?”

“Tea please,” Tezuka replied and his muse’s mouth twisted into 100% smirk.

“Are you sure? There’s no one else here,” his muse said, gesturing around the cafe that was indeed empty.

“Do you like coffee?” Tezuka asked.

His muse looked around and leaned in, a conspiratorial look on his face, “I can’t stand it. I keep being told I make the best coffee though.”

Tezuka considered this for the moment, “I would like a cup of tea, please.” His muse just laughed and set about making him a pot of tea. “You do make very good tea as well” Tezuka said, keeping his eyes averted from the other man in an attempt to hide his embarrassment.

“That’s the first time someone’s told me that,” his muse laughed. “Are you just being polite?”

“No,” Tezuka replied. “I’d tell you if I thought your tea was bad.”

“Of course you would,” the other man snorted. “I can put that on my CV though. ‘Can make tea that writers like’. I’m sure a publishing company would snap me up.”

“It’s certainly better than the tea my editor makes,” Tezuka said, his heart beating slightly harder that his muse had noticed he was a writer.

“Editor?” His mused hummed to himself thoughtfully, “so you’re published?”

“I am,” Tezuka said, “under a pseudonym.”  _A couple of them_ , he thought.

“What’s your name? Your real one,” His muse clarified quickly, “I can’t call you ‘tea loving writer’ forever.”

 _He has a name for me_ , Tezuka thought,  _how would he feel about being thought of as ‘my muse’?_

“Tezuka,” Tezuka replied, “Tezuka Kunimitsu.”

“I’m Echizen Ryoma,” His muse said and Tezuka finally had a name for the man that graced his dreams and stories. “I can’t think of any authors called ‘Tezuka’ or ‘Kunimitsu’.”

“As I said, I used a pseudonym,” Tezuka replied.

“And you’re going to make me guess it?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“You’re a tease, Tezuka Kunimitsu.”

Tezuka blinked, he had been called many things in his life (normally along the lines of ‘strict’ and ‘boring’), but never a tease. For some reason, being around Echizen bought it out of him.

“Would you like to join me for tea?” He asked before he could stop himself.

“Yeah, sure,” Echizen shrugged, “you’re paying for it though.”

“Of course,” Tezuka said, he had intended to the moment he’s asked Echizen to join him.

“If anyone comes in I’ll have to serve them, I’m the only one in the shop today,” Echizen said as he made himself a pot.

“Naturally.”

They made their way over to a table, Tezuka slightly surprised that Echizen picked a table with chairs rather than sofas.

“You can write this way,” Echizen answered the unasked question as he sat down. “You… You look good when you’re writing,” he said, a slight blush on his cheeks.

Tezuka didn’t quite know how to reply to that, so didn’t. Instead, he pulled out his notebook and opened it on the table. Echizen watched him like a hawk as he pulled out his pen and started to write. The other man’s gaze wasn’t off putting at all, given that it was focused on his face and not on his writing.

“Don’t you want to talk?” Tezuka asked.

“I’m happy just watching.”

Tezuka didn’t know how long they say there, it certainly didn’t feel like the four hours the clock told him had passed. Echizen disappeared occasionally to serve another customer or (more often than not) to make Tezuka a new pot of tea. Tezuka wrote furiously, he was working on the sequel to a light novel he’d written earlier that year and had become unexpectedly popular called ‘Night of the Thief’. It was about an uptight police officer who was chasing after a phantom thief, until circumstances happened that meant they needed to team up against an even greater evil. The phantom thief was very obviously (so obviously that Tezuka was rather ashamed of it) based on Echizen. He had not meant to publish it, wanting to keep it hidden as his secret shame, but his editor, Fuji, had found it and wouldn’t leave him alone until it was published. Tezuka had hoped that it would sell a few copies and then sink out of existence, but now it was on the bestseller list. There was even talk of it being turned into an anime series!

When Tezuka looked up from his notebook, it was almost 6 and Echizen was pottering around the counter, clearing up for the day.

I should leave, Tezuka thought, closing his notebook and reaching for his bag.

“I wouldn’t bother,” Echizen said from the counter, “it’s raining.”

A quick glance out the window confirmed this. The rain was pelting down hard, people on the street opposite were hurrying along under multicoloured umbrellas. Tezuka’s heart sunk slightly when he remembered that his own was still sat next to his front door.

“When did it start?” Tezuka asked.

Echizen shrugged, “just now. You can wait here till it clears up.”

“Thank you,” Tezuka said, but still put his things back in his bag. He’d reached a natural pause in this work and if he got started again he’d be here for the next few hours.

“If you want to do something then lock the door for me,” Echizen said, throwing his keys across the room at Tezuka, who caught them easily. “It’s the silver key on the keyring with the tennis ball.”

Echizen’s keys were a mess of keychains and keys, but Tezuka managed to find the one he meant and locked the door.

“I’m not meant to let customers stay after hours,” Echizen said, “So don’t trip over anything.”

Tezuka nodded and sat at a table near the counter, watching Echizen count up the takings and fill in the end of day paperwork, taking in every detail from the way Echizen kept brushing his fringe out his eyes (which was ineffective as it just fell back to the way it was before) to the way he tucked his pen behind his ear when he wasn’t using it and the small wrinkles on his forehead as he concentrated whilst he punched numbers into a calculator. He was very, very lovely.

He was sure he’d never felt this way about anyone before, there was just an aura around Echizen that made him want to get closer, to know everything about him, to hold him close and drown him with kisses. He’d been aesthetically attracted to a few men before, but not like this, never like this.

When Echizen disappeared into the back office to put away the paperwork and money, Tezuka looked out the window again. It was still raining hard, he was going to get very wet on his way home.

“It’s pretty bad out there,” Echizen said as he returned.

“Do you have an umbrella?”

Echizen shook his head, “I’ll just get wet,” he said, a scowl on his face as he watched the rain falling, as if it were personally betraying him.

“I live very close, you can wait for the rain to stop there,” Tezuka offered before his brain could stop him.

“Yeah, okay,” Echizen agreed and Tezuka’s heart tried to escape from his chest. At least his apartment was always meticulously tidy and there was tea in the cupboard that he could offer his guest. “I didn’t even bring a coat with me,” he said as he unlocked the door.

“You let your guard down,” Tezuka told him.

Echizen smirked, “says the guy who forgot his umbrella. How far is it?”

“Five minutes,” Tezuka replied, “less if we hurry.”

They were stood under the awning now, listening to the downpour hitting the canvas above them. Neither of them quite ready to make the first move into the street.

“I hate rain,” Echizen muttered under his breath then turned to Tezuka. “Lead the way.”

* * *

They were soaked through by the time they got to Tezuka’s apartment.

“I’ll get you a spare change of clothes,” Tezuka said, taking off his shoes and hurrying to his bedroom. There was going to be nothing there that would fit Echizen, but it was better than leaving him in wet clothes. “The bathroom’s just here,” he said gesturing to the room, “and feel free to use the shower.”

“Thanks,” Echizen said, taking the spare change of clothes and towel.

Whilst Echizen was using the shower, Tezuka quickly dried himself off and changed out of his wet clothes, shoving them into the dryer.

He couldn’t quite believe that Echien was in his home. In his shower. Naked. He pushed that thought away as quickly as possible and went to make them both a cup of tea.

He was pottering around doing a bit of housework when Echizen emerged from the bathroom. His damp hair was stuck out in all directions and he was dressed in Tezuka’s tennis shorts and a lavender shirt that was far too big on his slim frame - he’d had to roll the sleeves up to use his hands.

“Where do you want my wet clothes?” he asked.

“I’ll put them in the dryer,” Tezuka replied.

When he returned to the small main room, Echizen was inspecting his bookcase.

“I’m trying to work out which you published,” he explained, tracing a finger across the spines. His finger stopped on Tezuka’s copy of ‘Night of the Thief’ and he tapped it thoughtfully. “I have this one at home.”

“Do you like it?” Tezuka asked, his mouth drying out.

“Yeah,” Echizen replied, turning his eyes on Tezuka, they were almost burning. “I wish they’d kiss though.”

Tezuka was so entranced by Echizen’s eyes, that he barely heard him and had to tear his eyes away to answer. “The detective and the thief?”

“Who else did you think I mean?” Echizen asked, smirking, “There’s far too much underlying sexual tension between them, the anime better keep that in.”

“I’ll bear that in mind when I write the sequel,” Tezuka said.

“So you did write it,” Echizen said, “is there going to be a scene when the detective has the thief in his home, dressed in his clothes?”

Tezuka’s mouth was suddenly very dry and it felt like a lead weight had dropped in his stomach. Echizen knew.

“Maybe not dressed in his clothes,” he managed to say as Echizen slid his arms around his waist.

“Yeah,” Echizen replied breathily, his face barely an inch from Tezuka’s. “He’d look much better without them.”

Tezuka didn’t know who made the first move, but one moment they were staring into each other’s eyes and the next they were kissing with such a furious passion that Tezuka felt light headed. His fingers tangled in Echizen’s silky, damp hair, pulling him closer so that he could fully savour the hot mouth pressed against his own.

After who knows how many long, hot, glorious minutes of kissing, Echizen pulled back. Tezuka’s hand slid from his hair to cup his face, looking down into his eyes, this was all like a dream. He wanted to say something, but the look in Echizen’s eyes told him he didn’t need to, that Echizen knew.

Echizen’s hands took his own and he lead him back to the sofa, crawling onto Tezuka’s lap once he’s sat down, his thighs straddling Tezuka’s lap.

“This is better,” he said, cupping Tezuka’s face in his hands, mirroring Tezuka’s position from before.

“It is,” Tezuka agree, his hands making their way to Echizen’s hips and giving them a squeeze.

“I’ve wanted to do this since the first time you came in and ordered tea,” Echizen said, “to see you messed up like this,” he ran a hand through Tezuka’s hair, brushing it out of its neat style. “I haven’t been able to get you out of my head.”

“Me neither,” Tezuka admitted, leaning forward and softly pressing his lips against Echizen’s. Echizen’s hands ran back into his hair and then they were kissing harder and hotter than ever before. Echizen made a soft growl in the back of his throat and it was all Tezuka could do not to throw him down onto the sofa and coax out every little moan and growl. But, that would have to wait, he barely knew Echizen and anything but kissing was definitely going too far for now.

“Echizen,” he murmured as Echizen’s hands started at his shirt buttons, “Echizen, don’t do that.”

“Why?” Echizen asked between kisses.

“We barely know each other,” Tezuka replied, “I-” he stopped, feeling embarrassed over what he was about to say next.

“Don’t want to rush things?”

“I was going to say something else, but that is also true,” Tezuka said, brushing a few strands of hair from Echizen’s eyes.

“I’ve just found out that you’re a romantic,” Echizen smirked, kissing Tezuka softly, “I like it.”

Tezuka felt his face heat up and kissed Echizen back whilst he recovered. “I need to know something about you in return.”

“I like tennis,” Echizen replied, “I like tennis a lot.”

“Do you play?” Tezuka asked, pressing kisses down the bridge of Echizen’s nose.

“Nope, not yet,” Echizen said, grinning, “it’s my turn to ask a question.”

“What would you like to know?”

“Do you like tennis?”

“I do,” Tezuka replied, “although I permanently damaged my shoulder in middle school playing it and now I can only play recreationally.”

“Which shoulder?”

Tezuka raised his left shoulder and Echizen kissed it. “Did that make it better?”

“I doubt it,” Tezuka replied, “it’s a nice thought though.”

“We should play when my wrist heals up.”

“Which wrist?”

Echizen held up his right hand and Tezuka took it reverently, kissing the soft, sensitive skin of the underside of Echizen’s wrist. “I hope it heals soon.”

“Same,” Echizen said, glaring at his wrist as if it had betrayed him. “Then I won’t have to put up with my dad bitching about how I’m wasting away precious time that I could be using going pro.”

“I look forward to seeing your rise in the world of professional tennis.”

“You’re cute,” Echizen smirked.

“Would you like something to eat?” Tezuka asked.

“Yeah, I’m starving.”

“You should have said so before.”

“And skip out on making out with you? No way!”

“We can continue later,” Tezuka promised.

* * *

The rain hadn’t eased off at all by the time Tezuka had cooked dinner and they’d eaten together, but that was just an excuse now; an excuse to curl up on the sofa together, Echizen nestled warmly against Tezuka’s chest. They were watching a sports show, but Tezuka wasn’t paying attention, too busy watching Echizen, as if he’d disappear if Tezuka took his eyes off him and this would turn out to be a dream.

“I guess I’m staying here tonight” Echizen said as the clock on the wall ticked to 10PM.

“If you would like to,” Tezuka replied, “I only have one bed.”

Echizen smirked, “I can behave myself if you can,” he said and then laughed at the look Tezuka gave him. “I have a class in the morning, so you’re going to have to wake me up.”

“I wake up early,” Tezuka told him.

“I don’t,” Echizen said.

Tezuka leant down and kissed him, “I can think of a few ways to wake you up.”

“I’ll look forward to finding them out,” Echizen replied, stealing another kiss.

You won’t be tomorrow morning, Tezuka thought, squeezing Echizen to him.

Echizen stifled a yawn and Tezuka decided it was definitely time for bed.

“Are you okay sleeping in those clothes?” Tezuka asked, “I have some spare pyjama bottoms if you want them.”

“They’ll be far too big,” Echizen shrugged, “I’m already swamped in your purple shirt.”

“It’s lavender,” Tezuka replied before he could stop himself.

Echizen gave him an amused look, “has anyone told you that you’re really gay?”

“I spent this evening kissing you,” Tezuka replied, “I am well aware that I am gay.”

“I might think you’re my cat and cling onto you in the night,” Echizen warned him as he climbed into Tezuka’s bed.

“You have a cat?”

“He lives with my parents,” Echizen explained, “otherwise I’d be running home in the rain to feed him.”

Tezuka nodded, glad that he wasn’t losing Echizen tonight, especially not to a cat. He climbed into bed and Echizen immediately pressed up against him, nuzzling his head against Tezuka’s chest and wrapping an arm around him. Tezuka wasn’t sure his heart could take how cute he was.

“‘Night,” Echizen said sleepily.

“Goodnight,” Tezuka replied, kissing the top of Echizen’s head and settling down feeling that everything had just slotted perfectly into place and that the world was at peace.

* * *

Tezuka was awoken the next morning by the bedroom being flooded with bright sunlight. He groaned and buried his head in the pillow. It must be extremely early, as Tezuka usually woke up naturally around 5am. In his arms, Ryoma hid himself under the duvet.

“Rise and shine,” an overly cheerful voice said.

“How did you get my keys, Fuji?” Tezuka asked looking up to see his friend/editor standing by the open curtains, smiling serenely.

“I’m your editor, I need a key in case you die or something and I need to pick up your manuscript,” Fuji waved the question off, “speaking of which, do you have it?”

“It’s by my computer,” Tezuka replied, he glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It was 4AM. “Did you have to come over this early?”

Fuji shrugged, “I wanted to see if you ever sleep. And you’ve finally found someone to share your bed with.”

Tezuka scowled, “He’s asleep.”

“I know, I saw him before I woke you up,” Fuji smiled, “he’s very cute.”

Tezuka nodded, wanting to tell Fuji to leave, but knowing the other man would just ignore him. He was a very good editor, but he really knew how to get on Tezuka’s nerves and did so deliberately. “You can make a start at editing the manuscript,” he said, hoping that would tempt Fuji away from Echizen.

“Fine,” Fuji said, “I’ll leave your boyfriend alone. For now.”

Once Fuji was out of the room, Tezuka let himself relax a bit and peeked under the duvet to see Echizen’s sleeping face. He was very cute indeed.

“You’d be better off staying asleep,” he whispered to him, “You don’t want to meet Fuji whilst half asleep.”

Echizen didn’t react, too deeply asleep to have heard him. Tezuka ran a hand through his hair and then got out of bed and dressed; if Fuji was going to tear his manuscript apart then Tezuka needed to be there to explain his choice of words.

Later, with his manuscript fully edited and Fuji safely out the door, he went to wake Echizen up with a cup of tea…. and an ice cube.


End file.
